


The Way Out

by Kalypso



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-30
Updated: 2003-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-17 17:01:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalypso/pseuds/Kalypso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ven Glynd considers his past, and future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way Out

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the Freedom City Birthday Party of 2003, when the theme was "It seemed like a good idea at the time". It's set in the second season, before _Voice from the Past_.

"Thank... you..."

The man is trying to look at me, but his face is wobbling with grief, and he can't quite focus.

"Thank _you_. Your wife was a remarkable woman; it was a privilege to be asked to speak."

The man nods shakily, and is helped away by another mourner... the daughter? 

He's a decent fellow, who adored his wife. And she was very satisfied with her marriage, too; I remember that happy, proprietorial smirk when she slapped her husband's bottom. He's proud of her achievements, but I doubt he'd ever really understand what they were. Yes, Morag was an admirable woman, wholly devoted to the needs of the state. And yet it was her suggestion that began this chain of events. Havant favoured killing Blake with a rapid disease; it was Morag who had the idea of converting a potential martyr into a terrifying warning. It seemed like a good one... 

Might Havant have been right, after all? If Blake had died, he would not now be running round the galaxy making trouble, and Space Command would not have taken such an interest in his case. How did they discover the inside story of the trial? Did they stumble across it, like Blake's lawyer? Or could it have been Havant himself, trying to disassociate himself from failure, explaining that he had argued for a more permanent solution? 

A rapidly terminal disease... At least it sounds as if Morag died quickly. An electrical fault in her food dispenser, officially. I hope she didn't realise what was happening. Did she suspect anything, when the news of Dev Tarrant's death came in from the Outer Worlds? And that clerk at the Public Records Office, who reported Varon - no, she can't have known about him. I only noticed myself because the final instalment of that Most Valued Worker bonus came back, marked "Deceased". And really, it was only Morag's death that made me quite sure: everyone connected with the Blake fiasco is being eliminated. 

It isn't by Blake or his associates. Hit and run's his style - he wants you to know what he's done. Like that strike on Space Command a few months ago - I had to hide a smile when I heard about that - a bloody nose for Space Command, with the bonus of removing Rontane, whose inappropriate ambitions always worried me. And Blake won't want anyone connected with his trial dead while there's a chance we might clear his name. The people who ordered these deaths want to remove that chance. In which case...

I'm not going to wait for Havant to die (even if he is an informer, that won't save him). Just because the Arbiter General is the most senior player in the game, that doesn't mean they'll leave me until last.

In any case, it's my duty to take action now. Space Command has to be stopped - made to understand once and for all that it's there to serve the Administration, not to control it. Appointing that woman Servalan was a disaster. "Put in more of a politician to sort them out," Joban said. "I know just the woman. Right background, keen to please, would be much happier behind a desk than in the field." Idiot... putting her in added brains to Space Command's ambition. Now her people are everywhere, whispering in Councillors' ears, making barely-concealed threats. I tried talking to the President, but got nowhere. I think he's afraid. I know now that this Administration will have to be purged. There's no one left on the High Council I can swear is free from Space Command's taint.

That's why I've had to look further afield. I sounded out a few governors from the Outer Worlds; several of them might jump on the bandwagon once it's rolling, but only LeGrand seemed willing to take the initial risk. She agrees the best chance is subterfuge and surprise. It's amusing - if I'd uncovered some of her activities in other circumstances, I'd have brought her to trial. Now, she looks like the right woman in the right place at the right time. In the chair at the next governors' summit.

This will be my final public appearance before leaving; I'm glad I've done it, I owed it to poor Morag. In a few hours, I will extract a small case from the hidden safe in my office. Tomorrow, I will call my staff and tell them I'm ill. But the medic I'll be seeing is a plastic surgeon, who owes me his career after a lawsuit - a woman who'd died. I've taken precautions: the man knows that file will be automatically released if I don't send a signal to block it ten days after the operation. The fake ID is ready, the passage off Earth booked. Absurdly cloak and dagger, but the survival of the state may depend on my escape. 

And, by some strange irony, on Blake. Well, after causing so many deaths, he owes us something. Morag was an assiduous keeper of records, and fortunately I got into her most secret files before anyone else did. She had kept all her notes on Blake's trial, and they can be worked up into a damning case; a shame I'll have to damn her in my presentation, but I'm sure she would understand. I've collected some other juicy items over the last few months, including that anonymous report that turned up just after Blake's attack on Space Command, with details of Servalan's double-dealing over some supercomputer. And, maybe best of all, a contact from Auron got me their new interceptor. With my knowledge, that could help us to something even more useful - the right figurehead at the right time.

So maybe keeping Blake alive was a stroke of genius all along. Morag's legacy: a rebel ready for recycling.

Smiling politely, I brush past the few remaining mourners and make my way out.


End file.
